


Tired of Sex

by angelheadedhipster



Series: Pinkerton Project [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abstinence, Drinking, Games, Gen, Land - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, Set Ups, Sex Games, Sorry?, i meant to have them kiss but somehow, pinkerton project, promiscuous sex, songfic lol, sorta - Freeform, they never quite made it, this is the best game, you can imagine it yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/pseuds/angelheadedhipster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Captain did not do well on land. Robbed of the stars, of a ship to command, he became jumpy and twitchy, not himself. He was irritable and snapped at whoever was nearest. And he came home very late at night, or very early in the morning, the dawn light reflecting off ice blue eyes as they squinted at Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired of Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration, to listen to while you read (if you want): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cu2Dsnvk6M0

A screech, metal on metal, the sound hanging in the air. A beat of silence. This was always how it started.

"I'm just..." Jim Kirk trailed off as he walked into the room they shared, his eyes bouncing off every surface without settling. The metal door of their room slammed behind him, wobbled, bounced. The joint got looser every time he slammed it, screeching back into its space.

"Spread. You know? So thin."

Spock did not know, which was the problem.

The Captain did not do well on land. Robbed of the stars, of a ship to command, he became jumpy and twitchy, not himself. He was irritable and snapped at whoever was nearest. And he came home very late at night, or very early in the morning, the dawn light reflecting off ice blue eyes as they squinted at Spock.

"What happened, Captain?" Spock asked.

"Nothing _happened_ , Spock," Jim said, scowling at him. He stumbled into the room, his gait unsteady, and careened onto his bed, falling face first into the pillow. Still drunk, probably.

Spock watched the back of Jim's head, now totally still. The lines of his back were tense under his sweater.

"Well, I mean, not nothing," Jim said, finally turning over and looking at Spock. "I did have sex with her."

Spock nodded.

There was a pause, while Spock waited for Jim to explain the problem, and Jim said nothing, merely staring at the ceiling as if he could not believe it was there.

They both started speaking again at the same time, Jim's rising and falling inflections over Spock's steady tones. Spock stopped talking.

"And the other girl last night. And Jen on Monday. And Tuesday was...Lynn? I think. And the same last week." He lapsed into silence again.

"I fail to see the connection between these women and your...description," Spock said. Jim looked at him confusedly, his eyes unfocusing, the black pupils deeper than Spock remembered them being. Whatever was happening was getting worse - Jim was drunker, was even more restless, was slamming things and getting into fights more and more often. They were grounded for at least another week, and Spock was concerned about what could happen in a week's time. He tried again.

"What is wrong with these women?" he asked. "And why did it necessitate further damaging the door to our room?"

"Not all women," Jim said offhandedly, staring at the ceiling again, his arms behind his head. "Some dudes, too," he continued, and Spock kept his face studiously impassive. "And there's nothing wrong with them. I mean -" and he looked at Spock now, "Have you seen _me_?" and gestured his hand in a way that was clearly supposed to cover those endless eyes, the broad shoulders, his carefully constructed abdominal muscles, and so on.

Spock had seen.

"I just," and Jim paused again, this time seemingly for dramatic effect. "I'm tired of having sex. So tired."

Spock was unsure of the appropriate reaction to this statement.

"It's all so..." Jim seemed to speak better without prompting. Spock resolved to just listen. "I don't know who I am, you know?" Jim said, as Spock sat at the edge of the bed, making sure to leave several feet of space between himself and Jim's legs.

The pause hung in the air again. Apparently Jim was done speaking.

"It is my impression that you do not have to have sex with these… people… if you do not wish to," said Spock, trying to make sure his voice was even, clear, and not judgmental. "There is no convention or etiquette that requires you to, correct?"

Jim made a noise Spock had learned was usually described as a scoff, though it was different when the captain made it. "No, I don't _have_ to," he said. "There's no law. I shouldn't, probably. But I know. I know I'm a sinner, but I can't say no."

"Say no," said Spock.

A beat, and then Jim sat up, leaning towards Spock, looking at him. "What?"

"If this pattern of behavior is one that is causing you unhappiness, the most logical option is to cease the behavior," Spock said, his eyes on the wall just behind Jim's head. Those eyes were so wide when they focused on you, it could be difficult to look at.

"Uh, thanks, Spock. I know that." He fell back against the pillow with a sigh. "It's not that easy, is it."

Jim resumed staring at the ceiling, and Spock resumed thinking about what he knew about his captain.

"A proposal, Captain," he said. Jim didn't look at him, but his head twitched in what could have been a nod.

"When you find yourself in a situation where saying no has become difficult, you should call me," Spock said. "Or, if possible, before the situation occurs."

"Call you," said Jim.

"Yes," said Spock. "The easiest option, of course, would be to just come back here, where I am. But if the need arises, you can call me, and I will come to where you are."

"Call you," said Jim, again, and now he was looking at Spock, his eyes the sharpest they'd been since he came in.

"You won't have sex with me," said Spock. "And in my company you will not have sex with anyone else."

"Call you," said Jim, and he stared at Spock so intensely that the Vulcan was briefly concerned that he had made a terrible, irrevocable mistake. And then Jim's face changed, as quickly as sun coming out from behind clouds, and he grinned. That irrepressible, irresistible grin, the one Spock had been waiting for and following for years now, the one that made everything else in the room seem less bright.

"Okay," said Jim.

+++

The first few nights were easy. The Captain came home early, and he and Spock sat around their room and talked - about Starfleet, about the ship, about things they had seen and done, things they wanted to see and do. Sometimes Jim dragged him to an arcade, where they practiced shooting techniques and played insipid racing games. Jim came home a little later each time, and seemed to have been drinking a little heavier each night, but he came.

That Thursday, he didn't come back. But he called.

Spock arrived at the bar to find an incredibly drunk Jim Kirk sitting next a beautiful pale girl, her black hair curling around his head. She looked up when she saw him, and her eyes narrowed.

The girl looked Spock up and down - her eyes, he noted, were the same color as his own - and scowled. "Oh," she said, and then she was gone.

"Hey, Spock," said Jim. He drank what was left in his glass.

"Hello, Captain," said Spock, sitting next to him.

"This is - oh," said Jim, noticing that the space where the girl had been was now empty. "Hey, look. It works! Call you."

"Yes," said Spock. "Call me. Shall we return to our quarters, Captain?"

Jim leaned into him, his shoulder pressing against Spock's. "Nah," he said. "You're here, she's not. Let's drink."

That night it was Spock who slammed the door, though out of drunkenness, not frustration. But Jim just laughed, and so Spock did, too.

+++

"We ship out tomorrow, Captain," said Spock. "Back to flying."

"I know, Spock," Jim replied. He was looking in the mirror, straightening his uniform. The last dinner on the ground was a formal occasion, a chance for the whole crew to come together socially, in advance of the beginning of their next tour of duty.

"This, then, is your last night on the ground," Spock said.

"It is, isn't it," Jim said, but he wasn't asking.

"You have achieved your goal, then. Since our conversation ten days ago, you have not repeated the behavior that you wished to avoid."

"All thanks to you, buddy," said Jim, but he still wasn't looking at him. His expression did not match his flippant tone. There was an extra look in Jim's eye, something he was thinking about that he wasn't saying. "Come on, we should go to dinner."

+++

Dinner was long, if wonderful. More and more food and more and more drinks, and yet the Captain, seated next to him, seemed quiet. When they finally left the mess hall as a shouting, laughing, drunken collection of friends, Spock was surprised to see Jim stop, not following the rest of the crew to whatever bar they were off to.

"You don't wish to go out tonight then, Captain?" he asked.

"No, Spock," Jim said. His face was drawn, but his eyes were narrowed, as if he were plotting something. "I'm going home. You should go, though."

Spock considered it, but not for very long. "Illogical," he said, the wine from dinner making his reasoning less clear than usual. "I go where you go. Those are the terms of our arrangement."

"Are they?" said Kirk, but he was smiling.

They walked home in silence, the night cool and clear. Jim kept looking up at the stars above them, barely visible through the city's lights.

"They look so much smaller," he said, and Spock knew exactly what he was talking about.

"They aren't, of course," Spock replied.

"I know," said Jim. They were almost to their room now. "We'll be back there, soon."

"Well, not there specifically," Spock said. "The quadrant you are looking at is in the opposite direction of our designated route -"

"I know, Spock," said Jim, cutting him off with a smile. They were in the entryway now, outside of the metal door to their room. Jim stopped, and turned to him.

"I'm not good on the ground," he said. He wasn't looking at him, wasn't making eye contact. Spock found his own eyes alighting on every other feature on his friend's face - those peaked eyebrows, the high forehead, the strong and smooth cheekbones - everywhere but those blue eyes, as deep as the sky out of the Enterprise's window. "You know this. I...I thought I knew why, too. I thought it was....well, a lot of things."

"Should we go inside, Captain?" said Spock. He was starting to shiver, he wasn't sure why.

"Hold on, let me say this first," said Jim. "I thought it was because I got bored, I get claustrophobic, it reminds me of growing up, I don't know. But that's not it. That's not why I was bad at being on the ground."

"No?" said Spock. He probably should be saying more, but he found he was content to listen to his captain and watch those lips move, red and full, quirking on certain words. Maybe he's had more wine than he thought.

"No," said Jim. "It was because, on the ground, I wasn't with you."

Spock stared at him, and did not have any idea what to say.

"I mean, I was, a little," said Jim. "But most of the time I wasn't, and things got bad. I did stupid things, I became someone else. Who I used to be, before I knew you. I don't know. But, the point is… things were better, this time, because you were always with me."

"I..." Spock could not remember when he had ever run out of things to say, but it seemed to happen a lot lately when speaking to Jim.

Jim shrugged. "That's all," he said. "I just wanted to tell you that, you know, before we go back. While we're here." He pushed open the door to their room, quietly and smoothly. "It's almost like being on-planet is a different world, you know? Like things don't count here, or something. Like we're in some dream, before returning to the real world."

Spock was still staring at the space where Jim had been.

"Spock, come on, I want to shut the door."

He shook himself, and followed his captain into the room, the door closing quietly and softly behind him.


End file.
